If At First You Don't Succeed, Cheat

Everyone was outside and revved up for the competition. The doors opened and they entered a lavish dancehall where an orchestra played the Blue Danube. The dance contest had begun.

Dick Basterdley eyed his main competition, Peter Perfect and his partner Penelope Pitstop, before nodding to his faithful snickering servant, Buckley.

Peter whirled Penelope and the pair pirouetted perfectly until Peter slipped, scurried for purchase on the floor, before ending upside-down. In a demonstration of centripetal force, Penelope was flung into the judges' seats yelling "heyulp!"

Buckley snickered as he threw the empty tube of buckminsterfullerene lubricant in a bin.

Starbuck entered the hanger with Buck.
"Landing pad 23 please" said controller
"We just passed that" Said Buck
"We going to have to get it back now"
"Ok all reverse"
"There's a lot of action here" said Starbuck
"Well there supposed to be isn't there"
"Never seen this much though."
"Well it's the final isn't it"
"Yep most patterns tend to start off slow and finish fast"
Buck said "Pad 1 is the fastest pad".
"That's true but this is the 100th year and should be fast all the time".
"Just be glad Buckeys Ball Final isn't on Pad 99".

01 - cleonymus - IFSGC delayed due to artefact shortage.
02 - Galactic Midden - I came in like a wrecking ball
03 - TheOriginalB - The Obvious Punchline (aka "The First Draft Was 136 Words")
04 - Frank - If At First You Don't Succeed, Cheat
05 - RoyalHankey - Sports Day at Dongkum

You have until the end of today to enter your Drabble

What's a Drabble!? I can't hear you ask seeing as this is just a forum post.

A Drabble is a short story or a poem or any collection of exactly 100 words (your title isn't included in the count) set in the Elite galaxy on a topic chosen by last week's winner. The Topic this week is Buckey's Ball

It is with considerable humility and pride that I happily accept the honour of receiving this momentous drabble crown. I like to think that the voting public saw in me a true born leader; someone who could take the drabble competition to the next level; someone who with literary excellence could lift us to loftier heights; someone who could paint a picture of 100 words. But, instead I'm wondering when Kow will return, and on that note I give you the topic -

Bucky had taken up new sport. He was quite excited. It was supposed to have originated in the old Sol system, but had been adopted enthusiastically on all the lower gravity planets throughout the bubble.

His co-pilot was a little confused by the rules and Bucky had been explaining how it all worked and what the equipment was for.

The bag and the clubs had caused no confusion, nor the pencil. But there was still the problem of the little indented spike.

Bucky smiled condescendingly as he demonstrated.

"You stick it in the surface and balance your ball on it".

..... He smiled in self congratulation, as the wordcount reached 100. Now I will just move this message.... hang on it's not a message it's last weeks drabble! I thought the topic seemed familiar.

Twisting slowly in the magnetic currents generated from the local black hole. The ship had cooled in the darkness of space. It shields disabled, it's power plant shut down. Adrift in the nowhere. Left without purpose.

It's fabric slowly degrading under the onslaught of Hawking's radiation.

Paint peeling, obscuring the nameplate and designation. The identity from so long ago.

A desolate corridor. Empty rooms. A vacant chair. No signs of life, no signs of struggle.

Escape pod still in place, the pilots hatch standing open to the universe. An enigma. A question. A mystery.

Off Limits (aka Misunderstanding the Question)

"Go access whose online legacy?" The director repeated the question.

Her assistant nervously tried to avoid answering. "Madame Director, the Pilot's Federation simply CANNOT be as strong or influential as they try to make us all believe. We have the right and the duty to find out what we need to know."

The director remained silent, her withering gaze focused on her aide, her cynicism obvious to all.

He continued, "This isn't even technically against their rules! Nothing expressly prohibits duplicating red channel data at a communications node! This is fundamentally different."

The loneliness of the long distance punner.

Kow had had enough.By this time he had fully expected to be flat on his back,snuggled in a big complementary towelling robe,face pack applied,and subject to the ministrations of a variety of nubile pamper specialists.Instead,he'd been greeted at the gate by an impressively jawed and be-medalled concierge whose volume control seemed stuck on 11 and whose vocabulary was liberally peppered with maggots.The following hours were a nightmare of perspiration,pain and humiliation,involving singlets and impossibly baggy shorts,with the promise of many more to come.By nightfall he had resolved to leave.

I will return in June, things are going well on the road to less fat arsedom... 5kg down, and loose trousers!!

Gone AWOL you say??

TITLE: Say Hello To my Little Friend

It had been 4 years, 4 long and lonely years.
Simoof sat re-reading the document, it was sent by courier and stamped by some Federal official, it was a genuine death certificate.
Issued once the legal period of time had lapsed to truly be considered deceased and officially AWOL.
4 years ago was the last time he’d seen him, lying there looking all sad and pathetic.
He wondered if there was something he could have done then to prevent this whole dark episode happening, maybe they could have still been together?
He sat in silence in memory of his .